


Queen of the Clouds

by BrookeSutter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 07:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3802258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrookeSutter/pseuds/BrookeSutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows the relationship of Bellamy and Clarke over the course of years. </p><p>Inspired by the Queen of the Clouds by Tove Lo: The second he saw Clarke Griffin, he knew he wanted to know her. The rest was just pure luck. Their relationship starts the summer after Junior year and continues through adulthood-with multiple trials and struggles (personal and as a couple), will they survive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PREFACE

Preface:

The blonde crossed her legs at the bar, putting out her Marlboro Red in the ashtray as she squeezed her eyes shut. Her other fingers wrapped around her pink and gold bejeweled shot glass her neighbors bought her for high school graduation. It was full and waiting for her, begging her to unclench her jaw like a snake to consume to fiery liquid. The bar carried a history of late night conversations, romantic gestures and plain memories of laughter and drunkenness. She admired every portrait, every picture and every dent in the wood. _"Factory Station"_ was her favorite bar in the entire world, her _home_ away from home. But not tonight—tonight, she barely felt comfortable.

There was a group of girls wearing practically nothing, commenting on her jean shorts that stopped at her upper thigh and the gray t-shirt crop top she wore, claiming she was the _whore._ It did not bother her at first, in a way she was used to the insecurities of her peers. Clarke was always confident in her appearance, her body, the way she used it and how well she performed sexually. There wasn't a single thing they could say about her sun-kissed skin, or her golden blonde hair or her piercing blue eyes that would cause a feather to ruffle. That is, until she heard her newfound nemesis exclaim with a loud giggle, "That's probably why her dad abandoned them!"

Her lids flew open, meeting the familiar brown eyes she'd grown used to over the last three years. Aurora Blake frowned, clearly annoyed with the brunette across the room. If Aurora Blake gave a person, specifically a girl, _that look_ they were typically done for. It took her a moment to speak because she was too busy reading her almost-daughter-in-law's expression. She could see the pain, the hurt, the betrayal radiating off her cerulean eyes. "Clarke—" She started but Clarke didn't want her to say it again. _Fight for him, fight for him, fight for him_ seemed to be her new mantra but Clarke was so tired of _fighting_ for him. In her opinion, her fight was over.

She dedicated her entire mind, entire body, and entire soul to Bellamy Blake for three years—stupidly, really because she was just shy of eighteen when they started their relationship. He was, by far, the best kisser she knew and sometimes she could still feel the way his lips used to make her own lips tingle like an electric shock. Sometimes, she could still feel him. But, he ended it with prejudice after he dropped out of school and she stayed because she was going to follow her own plan. It still made her mad when she thought about him _asking_ her to give up on her dreams. It was over. They were over, so she didn't know why it still made her angry.

Maybe she was done fighting for him, but she was far from defending her loved ones. It'd always been a nasty habit of hers to protect the people she treasured. Nasty, being, she wasn't exactly nice about telling someone to _fuck off._ "And momma, you might want to call the cops." She caught the smile on Aurora's red-drawn lips before she pivoted on her heel and made her way to Roma.

Roma, Bellamy Blake's new girlfriend, was the one talking shit—and now, the bitch was going to get hit. Before Roma or her friends could comprehend her presence, she had her fingers threaded in her brown hair and her face pressed against the felt of the blue pool table. Clarke could be mean, she could tell Roma how Bellamy and she used to have sex on the table after the bar closed but she wasn't going to go into detail about her sex life for her own entertainment. Instead, she stuck to the point. Clarke's brown ankle boots shifted against the faux-wood floor before she leaned down and whispered into Roma's ear. As much as she knew Aurora wanted to see Roma's ass kicked, she wasn't about to get the cops called on a busy Friday night. It would destroy business. Instead, she kept her speech short. "If I ever hear you talking about my dad or how I used to fuck your boyfriend again, I will kick your ass in front of all your skanky, idiotic friends. This is the only warning you get, bitch."


	2. Chapter 1: First Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Bellamy sees Clarke.

Chapter 1

_4:35 PM_

Clarke narrowed her eyes in the direction of the clock on her dash and cursed under her breath. The southern humidity was pure torture on her unruly, wavy hair. Typically, she wouldn't smell of saltwater or cigarettes but she was trying something new—deadly, sure…but new. Somehow, she couldn't exactly pin-point the moment although she imagined she was high, she'd become a surrogate soccer mom to two sophomores that attended her future school. She reframed from calling them "sophomores" due to the fact they were geniuses and her drug dealers. Jasper Jordan and Monty Green were her neighbors as well as her personal comedians most days. They met the instant she parked her car in the driveway of her new house. They were both huggers—a new concept to her.

Lucky for her, Illinois private school education ended a week ago, signaling an early summer break. Her mother tried to talk her into going to her new school for the last week but Clarke promptly declined, claiming she wanted to get a feel of the town instead. Mostly, she'd been living on the beach out of the trunk of her robin egg blue Volkswagen Beetle Convertible. At some point, she volunteered to pick the two boys up on their last day of school. Now, she was late—an unusual thing for her but she got so caught up in the sun that she lost track of time. It was safe to say she was no longer in Illinois.

In an attempt to stick to her schedule, Clarke popped a tiny blue pill into her mouth. She swerved to the right for a brief second before she grabbed her orange juice from the console. The only reason she kept taking birth control, even if she didn't have a sex-life at the moment, was in case she saw Channing Tatum in the mall or something. Sure, some girls could argue logistics "he's married, blah, blah, blah" but she would totally jump him given the chance. And maybe she would meet someone in the sleepy town of Ark, South Carolina. She wasn't a virgin, if that wasn't obvious, but she wasn't a slut either. Her previous partner was chosen wisely based on maturity, attractiveness, and familiarity. His name was Aric Waters and he was by far, the best looking person at her private school. They dated a little but it was nothing serious and she didn't mind. She had AP classes and internships to handle.

And now she didn't have a single person to fill the void her parent's constant absence caused. Okay, maybe that was a little deep but she was certain Aric only served as a distraction from her empty house. It was over, though. They said goodbye with a chaste kiss and a promise to Facebook one another but Clarke had no intentions of keeping contact. Out with the old, in with the new she supposed. Even if she wasn't sleeping with anyone, she knew she was sexy. How could she not be sexy? Clarke took care of her skin, ran a mile a day, and attempted to highlight her natural features with the bare minimum of makeup. She was confident, maybe too confident, in her abilities to charm the pants off of someone. Despite having a strict one-partner rule with her former lover, she was a shameless flirt.

It crossed her mind once or twice that this was her chance to be a different person. The whole flirty, party girl thing was sort of overrated at this point. She enjoyed listening to music and spending her time near the water. Solitude became her best friend when she didn't have a _best friend._ Even in the city she lived in just outside of Chicago, she didn't have a best friend. Maybe that was something she needed to look into.

"Shit!" The word flew from her mouth as she ran up on a curb, her drink splashing over her former high school t-shirt. It was gray and worn but she enjoyed the feel of the cotton against her. Well, until it was completely soaked with juice, that is.

_And mom said I should take the spare clothes out of my car…_

Clarke turned into the school, parking between orange cones and the curb. There was a beat up SUV in the back of the parking lot but other than that, she was the only one there. With a heavy sigh, she unbuckled her seatbelt. Wincing when the metal piece hit her window, she exhaled once more and opened her door. _First I'm late, now this? God, today is not my day! And Jasper and Monty aren't even in sight!_

She bit her lip as she popped the trunk and started rifling through her clothes and other belongings in the area. Slowly, she removed her shirt once she settled on an outfit. Under the impression that no one could see her, and if Monty and Jasper happened to walk out they wouldn't mention it, she continued to undress.

People could definitely see her—he could see her.

-x-  
Bellamy  
-x-

Bellamy released a grunt when Miller's fist collided with his chest, gripping his shirt so he would stop walking. "Look at that!" He nearly yelled, pointing in the direction of the window. At the time, Bellamy was sending a text message to the horniest girl he'd ever met. Roma. There was some heavy potential that they would be having sex by the end of the summer on a regular basis. But, his mind completely e _rased_ Roma when he saw what caused Nathan Miller to falter in his steps and act like a helpless fifteen year old. Murphy let out a low whistle when the attractive blonde lifted her shirt over her head, revealing a simple black bra that contrasted with her tan skin. She quickly tossed her shirt into the back of her convertible, reaching for something in her trunk. Bellamy arched an eyebrow, eyes zeroing in on her ass as she bent down to grab some type of flimsy fabric. She looked _good,_ better than good…she was sexy as hell. And someone he'd never seen a day in his life. How the hell did he overlook her?

As if god was sending him an early present for making an overall 100 in History, she slipped off her skin-tight jeans and replaced them with a pair of cut off shorts that barely left anything to the imagination. Not that he had to imagine her in her underwear in the first place .He didn't even know her name and somehow he'd gotten farther with her than he had with Roma. In his defense, they'd only been going back and forth since 6th period.

Murphy and Miller's mouths were wide open with shock and maybe awe at the sight of her curvy body. Bellamy knew he reflected amazement as well because he was far too acquainted with skinny girls without much bust due to the cheerleading squad's insane diets. She was _real._ Her body was the type he could hold all night— _stop,_ he pleaded because he couldn't think like that. He found himself attracted to the blonde stranger due to her body, due to her boldness as well. He didn't know a single girl who would openly change in the broad daylight. But he wanted to.

God, he wanted to.

And the mere thought scared the shit out of him. Up until now, he'd viewed the girls in his sights as disposable. She didn't seem like that type. He didn't even know her but he could tell _this girl_ was on another level.

The boys continued to watch her as she pulled on a crocheted white crop-top. The only reason he knew the styles of women's shirts happened to be his little sister, the reason he was leaving football conditioning late in the first place. She was studying in the library with her nerdy ass friends, even though he didn't know what the fuck they were studying if school was officially over with, and he was waiting for her to finish. Even if he thought his sister's friends were way below her league, he preferred them over anyone else. They were good kids, apparently and he trusted his sister with the two losers.

For a brief second, he looked away from the glorious being and searched for his sister. He found her familiar brown head in the middle of Jasper and Monty as they walked…towards the girl's car? He heard her slam her trunk closed, then watched her as she moved into the front seat. Why was his sister walking over to her car with Jasper and Monty? Why were the two dorkiest boys he knew climbing into her convertible? Why was she smiling at them like _that_? She was probably the sexiest person he'd ever had the opportunity to ogle and she was hanging out with Monty and Jasper; the dorky, disaster duo. "Who the fuck is this girl?" He asked out loud before he could restrain himself.

He was going to find out.

Even if Miller was looking at him like he was a goner.


	3. Chapter 2: Meeting Bellamy

Chapter 2:

He almost forgot she existed.

Almost.

When the blanket of the night settled over his tanned olive skin, he found himself tangled in his navy blue sheets with his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he thought about _her._ The siren in the Volkswagen Beetle with the perfect rack. He recalled, with excellent detail, how her ass moved when she wiggled her legs to pull up the tight material of her shorts. He could envision precisely how she sucked in a deep breath when buttoning her pants and how her breasts swelled and how his heart stopped beating and his palms started sweating. And he could imagine what her body was capable of, her thighs wrapped around his waist…he could see that, he could want that.

The first true day of summer break—true because it was the first day it hadn't rained in the afternoon in three days—was the first day he actually met her. By the time Thursday rolled around, he was under the impression that the blonde was a figment of his imagination. Maybe the coach made them run too hard and they were all suffering from hallucination or something. It was Miller's idea to fight the sweltering heat with some beach-time but it was Murphy's idea to invite Roma. At first, Bellamy was glad his friend was trying to get him fucked.

Then, it was just a fucking inconvenience.

Bellamy only valued two women in his life—his mother and his little sister. When Octavia begged to join him, claiming she was tired of watching reruns of Law & Order SVU because she'd watched every episode already, he felt obliged to let her tag along. Roma seemed to think Octavia was going to be a buzz-kill and maybe she was right but Bellamy wasn't going to let his sister know that she was destroying his chances of getting laid.

Once they got to the beach, Octavia kept her distance. It was clear that she had something against his chosen company—except Miller, everyone loved Miller for some reason—so she moved twenty feet away from them and laid out on a towel. Things were awkwardly progressing with Roma, little comments here and there while they all tried to relax. Roma was wearing a patterned bikini and she seemed quite proud with her body. According to Murphy, she had every right to be proud.

"Oh, thank god!" Octavia's squeal caused him to jolt back into consciousness and the rest of his friends to groan in annoyance—that is, until they turned around. The Beetle stopped just where the sand met the asphalt parking lot, the top down to reveal the driver. The blonde was wearing a pair of aviators, her hair flying in different directions as it battled with the breeze. Even from far away, he could tell she was smiling about something her passengers were saying.

His sister walked over to the car, clearly excited to see the little group. Jasper and Monty wore matching swim trunks and Bellamy could already hear Murphy's line of jokes. His friend promptly shut up when the goddess opened her door and stepped out. _Those damn cut-offs,_ Bellamy thought as his eyes scanned her legs, venturing up until they stopped on her ruby red bikini top. It was like her body was begging to be free from the skimpy material. It was like her body was begging for _him_ to free her from the skimpy material. She was wearing a pair of dark aviators and she carried a light blue towel, a book and her phone in her hands. He noticed by the way she walked over the familiar grooves of the area that she was acquainted with the beach. _Probably why she keeps clothes in her trunk…_

The blonde said something and his little sister busted out into a loud laugh that carried. Bellamy wanted to know the joke. He wanted to know what she said that caused his overall moody sister to giggle. Octavia guided her friends over to her spot but the girl and she were the only people to lay out. Jasper and Monty immediately started to construct sandcastles, rattling off something about statistics and the perfect design.

She removed her shorts, gaining a small, "Oh, shit…" from Miller. Roma seemed on edge with the blonde's presence. It was a girl thing that Bellamy didn't feel like dealing with. _Jealous_ was the only word he could really use to describe the screwed-up expression on his "dates" face.

Bellamy was at a loss for words.

He heard Murphy let out a low whistle but before he could say _it;_ the caveman claim, Bellamy finally spoke. "Dibs." Roma huffed in response, settling back down with annoyance rolling off her skin. At that point, Bellamy wasn't giving her much attention.

-x-  
Clarke  
-x-

She didn't notice him—not at first.

Clarke was well-aware of the group of boys close to her own group but she was more concerned with the song she was listening to on her summer playlist. It wasn't until her new friend, Octavia Blake, casually pointed in the direction of the boys standing up to grab their array of boards that she settled on him. "That one right there—" Yes, she was definitely pointing to the boy who'd grabbed her attention, "is my older brother. He's a bit of a dick and sort of has a bad reputation when it comes to girls but idiots like that on—"

Jasper cut her off, shaking sand and water everywhere as he reached for the cooler in brought. "He's my hero," He mumbled before meeting Octavia's eyes. Clarke noticed the red on his cheeks wasn't from the sun. She knew this because she was the one applying sun screen to their bodies in the first place. It was obvious Jasper had a little crush on Octavia. Obvious even to the brunette. "Guy's got serious game."

Octavia scrunched her nose because she clearly didn't want to discuss her brother's sex life.

"That's an understatement." Monty snorted, not taking any type of social cue whatsoever. "See that girl over there trying to get his attention, that's Roma and she's the head cheerleader at our school—I guess your future school. Survey says they're going to be having a dramatic friends-with-benefits relationship by the end of next week. That's just who he is…"

"Roma's easy." Octavia rolled her eyes, "My mom doesn't like her…I could tell when she came over to the house today. My mom has this look…I can't explain it, she just does and when momma gives you that look, you run."

_My mom has a look like that but it usually only arises when I'm not "doing all I can do" for college…_

"Sounds unfortunate…for your brother." Clarke bit her lip as she watched him move with ease around his friends, clearly the alpha in the group. There was something about knowing he was that type of guy that caused her heart to flutter. His obvious lack of commitment made her pulse quicken, the way his lithe muscles moved when he laughed made her close her eyes. Captured—she was absolutely captured by him. She could easily play the game, claim she wasn't drawn to him when she was or she could be the adult she always tried to be. Honest with her approach and quick to the point. She could stroll up to him and tell him, _"I want you"_ but she reminded herself she was trying to be _different._ Sure, she wanted him because he was hot and willing and probably dumb enough to follow her to the backseat of her car but she couldn't be the party girl or the girl who hunted men until she settled on her prey like she did with Aric.

She had to be a normal high school girl and normal high school girls didn't carry such a strong maturity about sexual relationships versus real relationships.

Despite her thought process, she found herself looking at him—observing how he skimmed the water with his friends and how Roma would touch his arm or his chest or any part of his skin to tell him she wanted him. Of course, she wasn't the only person watching him. Jasper, Monty and Octavia had their eyes trained on the group. Jasper passed Clarke a canister and she looked down at it, "It's moonshine." He told her, "Special mixture made by Monty and myself. Try it."

Clarke cracked a smile, "I'm driving, remember?"

Monty's eyes widened before he snatched the canister from her hands. "And she can't drive as it is so we shouldn't impair her!"

"Hey!" Clarke shouted a little too loud, "I can drive just fine when I'm not being told to _look, look, look_ all the time." When she brought her attention back to the group, their eyes locked. His browns meeting her blues. _Target Acquired,_ she thought wryly. After a moment, she sees his mouth turn up into a small smirk. _Is he flirting with me? He's totally flirting with me with his eyes…oh my god._ Her blue eyes were calm unlike the waves, not divulging a single thought so when she sent him the sexiest smirk she could manage and leaned forward to press her knees to her chest, she wasn't surprised that he slipped on his board and slammed his head into the ground.

Okay, she was surprised that he had that type of clumsy reaction.

_Damn, better than I thought I was._


	4. Chapter 3: The Invitation

Chapter 3:

The sound of her trunk popping echoed in her ears briefly before she grabbed the plastic first aid kit she and her father prepared the day they gave her the car. It was his idea of a joke concerning her occasional bad driving—she remembered how red her face got when he gave it to her. At this point, she was thanking god for his sense of humor.

Clarke didn't want to take the whole thing with her, so she grabbed the small light and a few Band-Aids just in case there was actually some type of wound. She was positive it wasn't that big of a deal, at least not as big as Roma was making it out to be with her _"Aww, you poor baby let mama take care of you"_ routine. Just a little bruise, possibly a bump but Clarke still felt obligated to make sure he didn't have a concussion or something. It was her fault he fell in the first place, wasn't it? Sighing as she approached the group on the shoreline, she lowered herself to his level and flashed the light in his eyes quickly to make sure he was responsive. The only thing he was really looking at happened to be her cleavage, though so she supposed he was just fine. "Well, you don't have a concussion—" She informed him at a normal volume before she leaned in and whispered, "—but if you keep looking at my body instead of my face, you'll either have black eyes or blue balls."

He angled his head upward, their skin almost touching when he grinned at her. His eyes were focused on her lips but she could tell that he was gauging a reaction rather than making a move. _Smart,_ she thought in appreciation, _size up the victim before you attack. Nice strategy._ He murmured hotly, "I think I'll take my chances" before he met her turned his heated gaze to her serene blues.

"A gambler? Tsk, tsk." Clarke hummed, still kneeling—still aware of his friends looking at her ass. But he was no longer ogling her, just intensely staring at her face like she told him to do. It was on a whim that she told him, "You should probably try to stay up most of the night just in case. I'm not a doctor or anything so feel free to do whatever the hell you want" and glanced back at Roma. It was her way of evaluating how serious his connection was with the head cheerleader.

"Any suggestions?" Clarke arched an eyebrow, clearly picking up on his _suggestion_ by the tone of his voice. Obviously, he wasn't too hung up on Miss Perfect Body. Clarke stood up quickly, her toes sinking into saturated sand as she curled them. It was her only tell, the only sign that he was affecting her. Unfortunately, he was still smirking at her like an overly attractive predator, waiting for her to stumble through her very descriptive thoughts like a helpless, innocent girl. Narrowing her eyes, she mentally declared she would not give him the satisfaction of turning into jelly.

She shrugged nonchalantly, "My parents work nights this week so you and your friends could come over. There's a rumor about some moonshine and I'm pretty sure I can handle it. Can you?" There was something about him that she couldn't resist—something about her personality that told her not to. Sex—not just intercourse, the build-up, the tension, the flirtatious comments and the heavy glances—was her only release from reality. It was not like her to simply throw herself into the arms of a stranger. In truth, Aric and she had long conversations before finalizing their "perfect" relationship. She could be sexy, she could be a tease but she lacked spontaneity when it came to the approach. At this point, she was surprising herself with how natural it all felt to carelessly flirt with a guy she did not know. But it wasn't just flirting anymore…she invited him to her house. Her sacred house in which Jasper and Monty had ever been in. And that was just the living room.

Her eyes purposely scanned his naked torso, stopping now and then. She faked a displeased twitch of her lips as if he were nothing special when she found him quite interesting—quite attractive. It was her way of playing the game. Lower expectations and pounce. She read enough Cosmo to know how to lure, she just hadn't read the part "How to Stop Yourself from Being a Fucking Badass Temptress." _Oops._

"Yeah!" One of his friends exclaimed loudly, "I mean, yeah…that's cool, you know…whatever." Clarke laughed at his attempts, thinking it was sort of adorable how he ducked his head and stole a glance towards the douchey looking one. She shifted her attention back to Octavia's brother, realizing she didn't even know his name. _Huh._

-x-  
Bellamy  
-x-

From his position on the ground, she looked like a model. The setting sun danced around her figure and the grains of sand sticking to her calves soon became the object of his jealousy. He wanted to stick to her skin in such a manner. Hell, she was practically telling him that she wanted him to stick to her skin that—wasn't she? After a moment of mentally cursing Miller for being such a dumbass, he pulled himself up to full height. The girl didn't even move, she just stood there with her toes curled in the sand as if it were her only anchor. There was something about her stance that sent pangs of satisfaction through his body; like she was doing it because she was actually attracted to him despite her _looks_ of moderate satisfaction. "It's Bellamy, just in case you were wondering…because I've been dying to know your name." He was on to her—she wanted him, he could practically smell it. The sun was fading faster than the moment and he had to know her name in case she changed her mind or something, decided to speed away into the night and leave him in the dust.

It felt unreal to even talk to her.

"Clarke." Her name rolled off her tongue—a capable tongue, he assumed. He was certain her body would haunt his dreams tonight. "Are you coming or not?" _Not yet,_ he thought to himself as his eyes sank down the front of her body before nodding. She could pretend she didn't want him all she liked but he wasn't going to be shy about his stares.

His remotely pleasant afternoon was turning into one hell of a night. He ignored Murphy and Miller's whispered encouragements, and Roma's backhanded comments. All he could think about was her. _Her, her, her_ wrapped up in her—fucking her. He wanted _her_ and only _her._ He could see her pressed up against his body, he could see her sweating and calling out his name—god, after a few minutes of slacking on his part of packing up, that's all he could see. "I'm going to ride with Clarke." His head snapped up at the sound of his sister's voice, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to process her request. He knew Jasper and Monty were Octavia's friends—but Clarke? How close were they? And how dare his sister keep her away from the house…

He heard Octavia following him as he picked up two boards and carried them to the trunk of his Ford Expedition. She was waiting for him to respond and he wasn't mentally prepared to do it. Octavia's eyes narrowed in the direction of Roma. _Shit,_ Bellamy thought as he met Roma's annoyed glare. "You seriously aren't going to take Roma, are you? Drop her off or something."

"If I didn't know better, I would say you're giving me advice." He snorted, but he knew that he had to take her somewhere. "Listen—"

"Clarke might be into you and you're totally vibing her so don't be a dumbass. Drop the skank off." Octavia ordered him. _Totally vibing? Who the hell is this girl in front of me?_ "Who knows, she might let you creepily stare at her tits again or something but she won't as long as _she's_ there." Octavia, he decided, was a smartass.

He rolled his eyes but the hints of a smile played at his lips, "Very mature, O." He commented before he nodded his head in agreement. "Fine, I'll drop her off."

Octavia threw her hands above her head as she walked towards the Beetle. He sent the blonde—Clarke—a wink before he shut his trunk with a rough slam and sauntered over to the driver's side. He caught her grin from his side mirror but his undivided attention of charming the pants off of her faltered when a familiar rap song blaring through her speakers. _"Bitches N Marijuana"_ by Chris Brown Feat. Tyga was not something he expected the blonde to listen to—not something he expected her to even like. _Clarke,_ he rubbed his hand across his face for some type of relief, _is not predictable._

"Try and keep up, Bellamy." Clarke called sweetly. He didn't miss the sexual undertone in her voice and by the way her startling blue eyes flickered, she didn't want him to.


	5. Chapter 4: First Time

Chapter 4:

In the end, he had to text Octavia to get Clarke's address because Roma made a scene as soon as he pulled into her neighborhood to drop her off. Life was about sacrifices, right? He could definitely sacrifice Roma for Clarke. Roma was shallow and Clarke made him want to dive into deep waters—uncharted, exceptionally deep waters. He couldn't reject his gut for the hopes of getting lucky with face it, second best—or third. Who knows where Roma ranks on the sex-scale? After the whole debacle of him being an "insensitive jackass" who "hopefully runs into a tree" on his way to the "bitch's house" he prepared himself for a good night. He knew that God would get him back due to the bad Karma he probably accumulated blowing Roma off, but he didn't care. Honestly, he _couldn't_ care because there were too many other emotions pulsing through his body. Duh, there was lust but he was also nervous? He'd never been nervous about having sex with a girl except his first time and that was different—that was normal. _This_ was not normal.

Miller punched the GPS with his Cheetos orange fingers while Bellamy hummed along to a Top 40 song on the radio. After an exaggerated sigh, one loud groan and some anxious foot tapping, Miller finally expressed what was on his mind. "You are the luckiest son of a bitch I know." He claimed before turning his attention back to the darkening sky. The outline of the moon was pressing forward, begging to be seen by the countless romantics, stoners and confused beings Ark, South Carolina hosted. Bellamy didn't know where he belonged as he listened to the GPS navigate him through the familiar streets of his hometown. Dropping off the horniest cheerleader for a girl he just met might seem romantic, but hell, he was just doing it to get laid…but did that make him lost? Miller started speaking again, "Seriously, how the hell did you get this lucky? Clarke is fucking hot and she's got that look in her eyes—the look you only see in hot, sexy, lionesses." _Lionesses, really?_

Bellamy gripped the steering wheel tighter when Murphy cleared his throat. It did not make sense for Bellamy to feel protective a girl he'd barely spoken to, but he did. He felt defensive as soon as the familiar guttural sound of Murphy trying to gain his attention echoed in the closed space. For her. Just for her because he let Murphy talk about all of his other conquests freely. "I'm not going to lie, she's hot but she's not good for you, man. That girl is the type of girl you fuck around with, get caught up in, and then develop feelings for. We're officially seniors. You don't need that type of issue."

For a moment, he considered it, "I don't think she's looking for a commitment." He could see it in her eyes—something he rarely ever saw, actually—that she didn't want to go any further than sex, if she even went as far as sex in the first place. He respected a girl who knew what she wanted. If she wanted him, cool. If she wanted to have meaningless sex, better. He wasn't going to judge her for it.

"Tell him, Nate." Murphy patted Miller on the shoulder, "Go on, and tell him what your future-detective mind observed at the beach."

With a heavy sigh, Miller started in on his observations. This was a typical activity concerning the girls Bellamy pursued and a Miller's keen mind. "Clarke…she hangs out with Jasper and Monty which is atypical behavior for your type of girl. You always go for the sexy girls who want a deeper commitment but settle because it's you. Clarke sized you up today, watched you with Roma and now she's inviting you over? That says she's not looking for a relationship—"

"Or she's overwhelmed by me." Bellamy joked even though it was obviously the first reason.

Miller scoffed, "Did you see her with the little flashlight, man? That takes training. She's smart. Smart girls don't go for jackasses like you. Not normally, at least. Obviously, Clarke's different. She's smart, she's sexy, she's kind because she deals with Jasper…Monty's alright but Jasper's a handful." Miller paused as if his mind went somewhere else for a moment, "and I'm sure your little sister has already informed her what type of dog you are. I'm just saying, Clarke's aware of your nature and she doesn't care. A girl that doesn't care is a dangerous girl because she makes you doubt _yourself._ One moment, you're fucking her and the next you're buying her roses and singing pop ballads outside her window like a goddamn stalker."

Bellamy denied their observations, "If anything happens with her…and that's an _if…_ I'm positive it won't go any further. I'm not the relationship-type. Everyone knows that."

"Yeah." Miller said as the GPS dinged _Turn Right On Phoenix Boulevard._ "Hmm, rich girl. Figures. Monty's dad is this agricultural guru and what-not, so the family has a lot of money. That's how they know each other. They're neighbors."

Murphy scoffed, "Yeah, and when did you become so well-versed on Monty Green?"

"We all go to school together. It's not my fault you think you're above everyone and don't bother to know them." Miller shot back as they pulled into the driveway of a miniature mansion. The definition of miniature was highly deluded and only based off of MTV Cribs. "Damn." The house was something out of one of those magazines his mother threw around the house. It would have bothered him except his mother was dating a pretty rich guy—well, they weren't really dating, engaged is a better word—who'd changed his opinion about the rich families in Ark, South Carolina. Marcus Kane was a good guy and he loved his mother even if she owned a bar and refused to go to brunch. "Clearly, they just moved in." Nathan pointed to some discarded boxes near the trash container.

"Okay, man…you can stop observing now." Bellamy chuckled, "I'm sure—"

He stopped talking when Monty and Jasper pushed them out of the way, carrying a pot of something. _Ah, the rumored moonshine…_ When did those two start drinking? Despite his train of thought concerning his sister and how she might need to get new friends, he followed the boys through the front door. He wanted to surprise her, maybe sneak up beside her and watch her jump but Jasper ruined it. "Bellamy, Miller and Murphy are here!" He called while they navigated through the hallways.

"In the Entertainment room!" Octavia called back with a laugh.

_Tonight's going to be interesting…_

-x-  
Clarke  
-x-

_It's been three hours…_

Half-way through another episode of Criminal Minds, Clarke peeked down at her phone to check the time. Three hours and everyone was asleep—everyone but her, Jasper and Bellamy. Her heart was beating uncontrollably fast as she balanced the pros and cons of sleeping with Octavia's older brother. _It's just to ease the transition,_ Clarke tried to use logic to justify her promiscuous wants, _and he's not even going to care about you in the morning so it's no big deal._

Her mind slipped to earlier in the evening when she fetched some orange juice from the fridge and he appeared, quite suddenly, behind her.

" _You make a habit of sneaking up on people or do you reserve it just for me?" He smirked at her when she pulled her cup to her mouth, swallowing hard. He placed a hand on her hip and continued to smile at her like he won something. For a second, her heart completely stopped and she just stood there in awe. In all of her calculative actions, she'd never been struck by the touch of someone. There was always a plan. There was always some type of thought process. There was always some type of restraint._

_Rules, even._

_Clarke had strict rules._

_1). Don't moan (insert lover's name here)_  
2). Don't make him feel like he's in charge.  
3). Control yourself.  
4). Don't let him mark you.  
5). Never get on your knees for anything (metaphorical begging or the other dirtier meaning)

" _Just for you." It sounded like a promise—an empty promise, but still a promise._

Something an agent said on the screen snapped her out of her thoughts and brought her attention back to the television show. If she were being frank, she never watched much T.V. , she liked to draw and she liked to read. The entire entertainment area was designed so her father could watch the multiple sporting events in peace with her mother's constant bickering on her cell phone interrupting him. Clarke's eyes landed on Monty and Miller (yes, she finally knew their names) who sat next to each other in the leather seats and then flickered over to Murphy—the douchebag—for a moment. Lastly, she looked at Octavia. They really were asleep. Every single one of them.

_It was probably the moonshine._

"Goodnight Jasper." Her voice overrode the sound of bullets flying through the air. Clarke stopped to watch the scene play out before Jasper turned his attention to her with a confused expression on his face. "I said, goodnight." She smiled sweetly because he looked so funny with glazed eyes and messed up hair.

"Oh, goodnight I guess…I thought you were sleeping here." Jasper asked as he looked at his company, swallowing hard. She understood why he didn't want to share a room with Murphy. Who would? But Miller seemed like an alright guy…and Monty was there and who wouldn't jump at the chance to sleep next to their crush? Octavia and he could spoon or something PG.

"That might be a little uncomfortable for some people." Clarke smirked before turning her head towards Bellamy, who'd been looking bored for the last hour as if he were considering going home. "You coming or not?"

His mouth fell open into a little _O_ before he stood up quickly, making an effort to follow her out of the room. Clarke was certain she heard Jasper mumble something along the lines of, "My hero" as she shut the door before Bellamy slammed his body into hers. His hot lips pressed against her own like an iron—burning her, singeing her every doubtful thought that this was a bad idea. That he might be a bad idea. She regretted changing into a t-shirt and a pair of regular jeans because it was only more fabric between them. His hands gripped her hips, holding her close to his body until they broke for air. _I feel dizzy,_ she vaguely thought before grabbing his hand and pulling him up the stairs. There were three spare bedrooms—she could have him in any of them. She could avoid the awkward moment in her bedroom where he looks at all her collected items and figures out that she's not only a revolutionized, strong female but also a nerd with a passion for Picasso and patient studies.

But she didn't.

She tugged him into _her_ bedroom and tossed his shirt on _her_ floor because…

Because she didn't know what she was doing, or why she was doing it. She was just doing it—doing him—to do it. Odds are, he wouldn't even remember her bedroom. Her lips connected with his neck and he released a small but significant moan. Her mouth ventured down his neck to his exposed collarbone, nipping slightly when she found him responsive before she moved back to his lips. He pulled her tighter to him before reaching for the hem of her shirt, yanking it over her head to toss it next to his. She backed up; _one step, two steps, three steps_ before her thighs hit her turquoise bedding. Clarke wrapped her fingers around his neck, slowly leaning back until she sunk into her mattress. It had a four inch memory foam topper as well as a mattress pad.

"I can't believe we're doing this…" He murmured, intensely looking down into her eyes. The heat, the fire, the amazement in his heavy gaze. His hand trailed up her stomach, sliding underneath her bra to glide over her erect nipples. "God…" He whispered but it sounded more like _gawddd._ Without much thought, she wrapped her leg around his waist and pulled him closer to her body until she was slowly rotating her hips against his erection and listening to his heavy breaths in return.

He grabbed her hips again and she knew she would probably have a mark but she didn't care. _One rule broken…_ Her fingers tangled in his hair as his lips connected with her neck, sucking and lapping her skin like he owned her—like he had the right to mark her. She was too turned on to stop him. If it'd been anyone else, she would have yanked his hair…but it was him and somehow there was something different about _him._

Clarke stopped rotating when he brought a hand between them and rubbed her clothed center. Her head fell backwards, deeper into her mattress. "Take off your pants." He told her and for once, she complied with someone's orders. She unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down her hips before they hit the ground. He pushed his fingers over her underwear, rubbing her center again. This time, she moaned and his smirk returned. "You're so wet, Clarke…damn, you're so wet." Another harsh moan broke through her lips as he quickly pulled her panties down her legs and let them fall on her jeans. He pushed off of her to take off the rest of his clothing.

Meanwhile, she scooted closer to her pillows and folded down her duvet, taking off her bra. Clarke tried to not look at _him—_ tried not to compare him to Aric but she couldn't. She failed miserably and discovered that Bellamy was well-endowed. And beautiful like art. Somehow his bare body fit in with all of her copies of famous paintings and somehow that wrecked her hard interior, destroyed her walls of confidence. She tried to reconstruct as he crawled towards her, tried to disguise her shattered "big-girl" attitude as he aligned their hips but all hope was destroyed when she uttered, "Bellamy…" against his shoulder as he pushed into her. Her eyes closed tightly and she didn't know if she wanted to cry or if she wanted to keep moaning his name.

She failed to grasp how she could feel so broken and so whole in one instant. She failed to understand who this _stranger_ was and how he could wreck her entire façade with slow touches and hot confessions. Clarke spent the majority of a year building her personality and she was crashing—god, she was crashing so hard and there wouldn't be a single survivor in the disaster labeled " _Bellamy Blake_." Clarke wasn't even sure she could recover from such a realization.

Sex wasn't just sex.

Not when he was whispering her name against her ear, calling to her like she was his everything. "Fuck, Clarke you're so tight…you're so tight, baby." It was a cliché admission but it was something she liked to hear—more so because his voice was so gravelly, so rough as it tickled her skin. Clarke started to meet his thrusts, slamming her hips against his until he started to groan her name repeatedly. His hand reached up to grab her breast as if he needed something to hold onto.

"Bellamy…Bellamy…Bellamy!" She moaned his name with every thrust, her hand moving up to cup his as he increased his pace. His fingers moved between them, flicking her clit with his thumb to elicit wanton moans from her. Their lips collided in a bruising kiss, her moans cut off by his tongue slipping in her mouth and massaging her own. "Please, god, please keeping fucking me like this!"

"Fuck, anything Clarke! Anything…" She moved her leg to his upper back, digging her heel into his skin as she ran her nails down his back. Her eyes nearly rolled back into her skull as black spots littered her vision. Her mouth was stuck in a silent scream as he continued to thrust into her.

"Just so you know…" Clarke moaned as he continued, "I'm on the pill."

It was probably something they should have talked about before—that is how people get pregnant in the first place. He nodded, seeming to understand that she was giving him permission—permission she'd never given another—to cum inside of her. He returned to the area he'd been sucking before as his body started to shake, his teeth grazing her skin before he huskily panted her name and chastely kissed her jaw.

A few moments later, he rolled off of her shifting the duvet so part of her leg was exposed. He was still breathing rather heavily when she flipped onto her stomach. His eyes were closed and his fingers were knotted in his damp curls. "That was…that was great…" He said quietly, "Really great."

"I thought so."


	6. Chapter 5: Timebomb

_Good morning, Princess ;)_

Bellamy suddenly regretted nearly scaring the shit out of Jasper to get her number as he walked along the dock. It'd been four hours. Four excoriatingly dull hours since he abandoned his spot in her bed in hopes of getting home before his mother got home and realized both of her children stayed out all night. Plus, he smelt like sex and gardenia scented perfume. His mother liked gardenias but that was just a coincidence--he didn't buy into the whole _"You marry people like your parents"_ thing. _Shit, why am I even thinking that word? Marriage..._ The distant hum of a boat engine sparking to life caused him to look away from his screen, look away from the single text message he'd sent on his way home so she wouldn't feel--

_Son of a bitch, I sent her a text so she wouldn't feel like it was just a one-night stand. It ~~was~~ is a one-night stand. _ ~~~~

"You kids and your technology!" Marcus called from the boat, hands firmly gripping the wheel as he motioned him over. He turned to Miller with a smirk on his lips, "So, what girl is he texting this time?"

Miller snorted, elbow-deep in ice that'd turned into slush as they waited for Octavia and his mother to join them. The girls were always bitching about sunburns and proper bathing suits as well as his mother's late-night schedule that interfered with the weekend boat trips. Sometimes they fished, sometimes Kane let Miller and Bellamy knock back a few beers and other times, they just talked about the future. Plans, really about after Marcus married his mom, or when Bellamy graduated high school. His friend hissed when he pulled his hand out of the cooler with a Dr. Pepper in his fist. "For starters, I warned him."

"Warned him about what?" Kane chuckled, bringing a water bottle to his lips before lowering it. Bellamy jumped into the boat carefully, making sure he didn't rock it too hard.

Miller was laughing along with Marcus as he started in on his explanation for the night before, "So Bellamy's trying to charm the pants off this girl named Roma, right? Wait, wait...no the story starts on the last day of school. So, we're waiting around for Octavia to finish _studying_ with Jasper and Monty when this girl pulls up in a Volkswagen. She gets out, starts undressing. I swear, it was like a scene from a--" Miller snapped his jaw shut and Bellamy started laughing.

"From a what, Mill?" Bellamy prompted, "Is porno the word you were looking for?"

"Okay, bastard whatever. Let's pretend you've never _looked_ at porn before..." Miller cleared his throat and directed his attention to Kane, "Anyway, so she's sexy and Bellamy's clearly interested even if he was trying to hook up with Roma...fast forward to last night and we run into her at the beach. She's actually friends with Monty and Jasper, Octavia knows her. Bellamy was trying to show off even though he brought a date, face planted and she flashed this light in his eyes and then invited him back to her place after Bellamy tried to have sex with his eyes. We drop Roma off, she fights with Bellamy but that's a little footnote in the night. But, eventually we get there and we're in her Entertainment Room watching T.V. and everyone passes out but Bellamy, Jasper and Clarke. When I wake up, this handsome devil wasn't anywhere to--"

"Clarke...that's an interesting name. Rare. You wouldn't be talking about Clarke Griffin, would you?" Kane raised his eyebrows, "Because I know her parents fairly well...just moved here and Abby is an alright woman, little attitude problem I suppose."

"Yeah, I think her last name was Griffin. I say was because one day it's going to be Blake, you watch." Miller smirked, "Because I woke up this morning and they weren't in sight and this asshole comes walking down the stairs with this shit-eating grin plastered to his face. I warned him that she was the type of girl that interrupted the flow of things. Now, as predicted, his ass is waiting for her to text him back like a puppy. But, no, he's not the type to get tied down by a relationship."

Bellamy thought he heard Marcus mumble something like, "You're so screwed."

-x-  
Clarke  
-x-

Clarke wore a scarf tightly around her neck despite the unbearable summer weather--seriously, though, it's not like she had a choice. Her mother would die if she broadcasted the dark purple marks Bellamy left across her skin to the Ark Country Club. Regret flittered in her stomach but it was filtered out by a single text-message staring at her every time she looked down at her phone. Honestly, she was scared he had his READ receipt on and if she opened it, he'd feel rejected. But if she never opened it...her plan wasn't exactly solid, okay? She couldn't think straight. She was sore and tired and felt like cocooning herself in her microfiber blanket until the awful luncheon was over and she could escape to the beach.

She hated the dress her mother bought her for the occasion. It stopped mid-knee and was a dark navy blue, three-finger wide straps and would just go "absolutely perfect" with some pearls. "Honey, why don't you take off the scarf?" Her father asked with a concerned expression. Clarke admired her father, but she was not about to take off her scarf for anything.

"Because it's in style." She huffed as if they should understand fashion.

Her mother muttered, "Well, it looks ridiculous."

It doesn't take long for Clarke to feel like she needs to take a samurai sword to her gut. Her mother chatted with the other people at their table and Clarke thanked God repeatedly that she was distracted. Once more, she looked down at her phone and thought about opening the text message just to have someone to talk to that wouldn't give a fuck. She could always contact Monty or Jasper but their conversations always got weird.

"Have you considered--" _Considered_ never actually meant 'considered', it meant _have you______(fill in the blank) like I ordered you to?_ "--retaking your ACTs again? What about your SATs. I got a letter today concerning summer AP classes that you could take--"

Her mother was cut off by the familiar ring of her father's phone. Abby looked at her watch and shrugged slightly, looking at her husband. "It _is_ that time." Her father said as a bit of an apology as he stood up, answering the phone. Her mother put her napkin in her plate and stood.

"I've got to be in the hospital within an hour." Her mother told her, "Uh, I guess order pizza for dinner. I don't care if you have friends over, I don't like when you're home alone. Jasper and Monty seem like great kids...a little odd, sure." It was the one thing she appreciated and hated about her parents.

They were never home.

Clarke nodded as her mother grabbed her things, remembering they all drove separate cars for this reason exactly. Her father stopped at the table before making his grand exit, "I love you, kid. I'll see you when I get home tomorrow morning. Don't forget about the baseball game next weekend. I took off from work so don't worry about it getting ruined." He kissed her forehead, "Don't worry about AP classes, either. Enjoy your summer."

She smiled at that, making a vow that she would enjoy her first summer in Ark, South Carolina.

-x-  
Bellamy  
-x-

He felt better once he got off the boat; tan, buzz, and a naked picture of Roma perked him right up.

For a while at least.

Then, he wasn't buzzed anymore and he realized he had a slight burn on the top of his shoulders--and Roma wasn't Clarke. Plain and simple, she wasn't the blonde that'd been playing a game of tic-tac-toe in his head all day. Miller recounted the story to his mother with the help of Octavia and he'd never been so embarrassed in his life. Not because his mother thought he was a virgin--hell, she'd caught him in the act more times than he liked to remember--but because she pulled him aside and demanded to meet her. His mother was always indifferent on the subject of his "girls" but...but for her to meet Clarke? It just threw him a curveball. He ended the conversation with a, "Mom, it's just not like that."

It wasn't until the cable box flashed 5:36 PM and he was seven points up on the Xbox game Octavia begrudgingly called "stupid and idiotic" every time she heard the maniacal laughter Miller released when he won, that he heard his phone buzz on the coffee table. His mother already left to check on the bar and Kane was doing god knows what with the bought, or his house or something. Bellamy was a little distracted by the head cheerleader when Kane explained why he was leaving. So, it was just Miller, Octavia, and him in the living room.

_You busy?_

He looked at the text and thought about not replying but the goddamn READ thing already sent to her and he--he couldn't leave her hanging like she left him. Even if it said she just opened the message.

_It's the "Princess" by the way...your nickname skills suck._

**_I'm not busy at all, PRINCESS....why?_ **

_Come over._

**_Why???_ **

_Sex._

**_OTW. Be there soon. ;)_ **

"Uh, I got to go." Bellamy stood up quickly and started searching for his car keys.

"Roma?"

Bellamy paused at Miller's question before he huffed, "Clarke...actually."

"Pussy whipped." His little sister mumbled and Bellamy almost lost his shit right there.

But he didn't, because he had more pressing matters to attend to, like pressing into Clarke.

 


End file.
